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I punched him in the side. “Don’t mess with me.”

He wrapped his arm more tightly around me. “I’m just happy.”

An emotional rush hit me in the pit of my stomach and brought me even closer to Shane. But before I could find the words to answer him, our hostess spoke up.

“Oh, you’re the newlyweds.”

Argh. I groaned into Shane’s collar. But he remained unperturbed by his nonsense.

“Ah. Yes, exactly.” He turned us both toward the entrance.

The woman tilted her head slightly and checked us over. Shaking her head, she beckoned us over. “Come on in.”

We hurried after her, taking the last two steps. When we finally arrived in the lobby and the warmth enveloped us, a shiver ran through my body.

Shane rubbed my upper arm, and I leaned against him.

“Welcome to the Snowmont Boutique Hotel. We are delighted to have you as our guests. Even without rings on your fingers.”

Shane put on his most charming smile. “You’ve seen right through us. But I couldn’t be happier today, even if we had gotten married.” He glanced at me briefly. “Oh well, who knows.”

“That’s a great attitude. Everyone who called today has had pretty much the worst day in ages. You guys are refreshing. I’m Martha. And here’s your key. Breakfast is served from six to ten.”

“Thanks, Martha.” With trembling fingers, I reached for the key.

“Could we ask for two things?” Shane turned on the charm.

“Of course,” Martha said, already coming out from behind the reception desk.

“We need a taxi to the museum at seven tomorrow morning. And would it be possible to have our clothes washed? Or at least dried?”

“No problem!” Martha picked up a phone on the counter. “That will be taken care of right away. You can leave your things outside your room door.”

I nodded, and we followed the directions up the stairs to our room.

When Shane pushed the door open, I stepped through and let out an audible gasp. The room was a kitschy, living New England dream. A huge four-poster bed stood in the middle. Colorful pillows were piled on it and on the sofa in the corner. The wooden ceilings gave the room a cozy atmosphere. However, Shane interrupted my observations. He hugged me from behind and lifted me into the air.

“A bed. A real, huge bed!” he cheered.

“Put me down. I’m too heavy,” I protested.

“You’re perfect, like this bed,” he murmured in my ear.

He lifted me a little higher and pretended to throw me onto the perfect bed. “Stop. The dirty clothes.”

“Okay, okay.” He put me down and in no time at all he undressed himself and me. He put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled me toward him.

“Wait, the clothes.”

He growled, picked them up, took wallets, phones, keys, pieces of paper, condoms, lip balm, and a bunch of other stuff out of the pockets. Then he pushed the door open a crack and threw the pile out.

“Oh, God. If they don’t get our stuff ready, we’ll be in real trouble.”

“We’re not talking about our clothes right now. We’re taking advantage of the fact that we’re not wearing any.” He sealed my mouth with a kiss, and I gave up worrying about things I couldn’t influence, anyway.

Much more gently than he had suggested before, he laid me down on the bed. I slid back into the middle and stretched out.

“This is comfortable,” I murmured to myself.